


We Could Be

by CupidStrikes



Category: Tales of Xillia 2
Genre: Incest, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 02:02:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3470282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupidStrikes/pseuds/CupidStrikes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julius is good at self-control, but it seems the whole world, or just Ludger, have conspired against him today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Could Be

**Author's Note:**

> B) This was written to 'Immortals' by Fall Out Boy on repeat, which is also where the opening lyrics are from. Written for Pico. Sorry not sorry. 
> 
> Set a little bit before game time I guess.

We Could Be

 

_They say we are what we are_   
_but we don't have to be_   
_I'm bad behaviour but I do it in the best way._

 

 

“Ludger...!” Julius grunts and bows his head forth slightly, his eyes slipping closed as plump droplets of sweat roll down his neck and darken the collar of his shirt, “Hn...”

 

Ludger smirks at his big brother and pushes back against him harder, enjoying the flush of exertion currently ruining Julius's usually perfectly blank complexion.

 

“What's the matter, big brother, can't handle me?”

 

Julius opens one eye and scowls at the smug grin on Ludger's face. He straightens up a little and revels in the groan that leaves Ludger's lips when he clenches his hand tighter around him. Seconds later Ludger's knuckles hit the table hard enough for the younger man to curse and clutch it to his chest, rubbing at the smarting skin.

 

“Ow! That hurt you bastard!”

 

Julius laughs and flexes his fingers before lacing them and cracking the joints.

 

“You're just not on my level, little brother.” He ducks when Ludger throws a punch at him, grinning and sliding out of his chair and hopping away when his brother lunges again. Ludger's chair falls over but neither of them really hear it hit the linoleum flooring (nor Lulu's indignation meow as he scurries away from the two brothers) as they circle each other like big cats preparing for a scrap. Ludger moves first, ever impatient, and tackles Julius into the sofa which groans beneath the weight of them. They wrestle on the sofa for a few moments, each trying to roll the other and gain the upper hand until, inevitably, they roll right off onto the floor and Julius swears heavily as he finds himself beneath Ludger, who is sitting on his hips completely unhurt by the tumble from the sofa.

 

“All right, Ludger, that's enough, get off now,” Julius pushes at him a bit and frowns when Ludger grabs his wrists and holds on tight, his knees pressing into his pelvis as he resists the attempts to get him off, “Ludger.” He feels sweat prick at his neck once more as his breath picks up and blood begins to redirect, and Julius feels hot and sick and so very, very hot...

 

“Ludger!” He gasps aloud as his brother shifts on his body, swallowing a low, keening moan and swearing beneath his increasingly laboured breathing, and by now Ludger had to be feeling the extent of his sickness and Julius is _terrified_. The panic bubbles up his throat like vomit and the apartment air feels freezing and burning against his skin. He closes his eyes against the nausea and feels warm, heavy weight against his face and fingers briefly press against his cheeks. Julius chances a look and watches as if from a distance as Ludger removes his glasses and sits back to put them on the end table (and gods, if that movement doesn't reignite the sickness anew).

 

“Julius. Brother.”

 

Ludger is looking at him with those eyes and Julius has to look away, his adam's apple moving sluggishly over the lump in his throat and it threatens to suffocate him completely until Ludger's mouth covers his own and Julius kisses him back in reflex.

 

When they pull away Julius is gasping for air like a half-drowned man and Ludger's smile is still smug around the edges and it makes Julius want to punch him and kiss him again at the same time. Ludger chooses the latter for him, one hand coming to cradle the back of Julius's head and force him to lean in to meet his brother's lips. The nausea pools at the bottom of Julius's stomach and blooms into a feverish, damp heat that spreads up and down the length of his body until he is hyper-aware of every minute movement of Ludger's body against his own.

 

“We shouldn't-”

 

Ludger lightly smacks him in the chest for that and Julius feels like he deserves it. He stares up at Ludger and shakes his head, closing his eyes as the movement makes the room tilt in slow-motion.

 

“Please.”

 

“Shut up,” Ludger presses his hips down and forward and Julius is powerless to silence the cry that slips from his parted lips, “I know what I want, stop denying yourself, Julius.”

 

But Julius's entire life has been denial and self-control and he cannot relinquish his grasp upon them so easily. He pushes back against Ludger and puts a firm hand on his chest. He ignores the hurt look in his brother's eyes and continues, dislodging Ludger from his hips. Trying to rise, Julius closes his eyes when he feels Ludger tug him right back to the floor again and grunts when he is shoved onto his back. His head hits the carpet but Ludger doesn't apologise and Julius stares up at him once more.

 

“Why?” Ludger crawls on top of him and Julius pretends his hips don't press up to meet him.

 

“Why deny this any more? I'm tired of it. Please. I want this. I want you, Julius. I need you.”

 

Julius's life has been denial and self-control but he has never been able to say no to Ludger. He should push him off, go and find the phone number for the therapist that Vera had recommended and book them both sessions, but Julius can't. He can't. Not when Ludger is looking at him like that and telling Julius that he needs him. Julius is a good big brother and always gives Ludger what he needs, even if it means damning himself to the darkest, deepest circle of hell (Ludger is too pure, too precious, for even Julius to sully him).

 

“All right, Ludger.” Julius sits up and kisses Ludger with all the ferocity that Ludger had dreamt of. He lets Julius take the lead for this moment and then gives him another firm shove back onto the floor and tugs his hoodie off, and Julius barely has time to register and be annoyed that Ludger has been wearing his pyjama top beneath it the whole time before it too is discarded and tossed across the room. Julius isn't sure when his brother became so self-aware or how he could be so confident in these matters but something about it makes him feel even less worthy of his position, yet very much eager to fulfil all his wishes.

 

Somehow the two of them make it into Julius's bedroom, leaving a trail of clothing in their wake, and Ludger once again wrestles Julius onto his back. He's beginning to find himself in this position a lot and he wonders how he feels about a dominant Ludger when something hits him in the face. Sluggishly, Julius reaches for it, looking at the condom wrapper for a moment and then up at Ludger.

 

“Put it on, doofus,” Ludger rolls his eyes and reaches down to squeeze Julius's erection eliciting a moan and Julius's hips jerking upwards, “Geez, did you even do this before?” Ludger laughs as that does make Julius go red.

 

“Of course I have!” Julius protests, unwrapping the condom and making sure to put it on in one smooth movement, nodding to himself in satisfaction. There. He looks up to see Ludger smirk at him and reach back into the bedside table, rummaging around in a way that makes Julius want to squirm, unsure what he might find in there. Ludger seems disinterested in the items, though, aside one, which he grins as he closes his hand around the bottle and draws it back out. The bottle of lubricant opens with a creak that seems to echo off the walls and Julius is transfixed by the way that Ludger leans up on his knees and reaches behind himself. Time seems to slow down and Julius hardly dares to breathe for fear of disturbing the tableau before him.

 

It feels like too soon and too long before Ludger is leaning over Julius again and he's touching him, his fingers leaving sensitive, hot imprints on Julius's body as he handles Julius's cock and slowly sits on him. Julius ceases breathing, his vision going double and then dark as he shivers, almost convulses between Ludger and the mattress, and just _feels_.

 

There are a great many sensations that can overtake your entire being. Fear is one Julius is most familiar with, fear, and the adrenaline that makes his job so much simpler, that allows him to think and _be_ through the strain that the Chromatus puts on his body, the way it claws at him and tries to drag him down into the blackness of despair and failure. Julius is familiar with invasive, base sensations and controlling them, but this is something quite new and he is unable to fight it, and he is _ashamed_.

 

He feels Ludger's hands on his face again and he looks up as his brother leans in to kiss him and Julius returns it regardless.

 

“Relax.”

 

Julius laughs against Ludger's lips and wrapped an arm around him, “I should be the one telling you this.”

 

“Hm. You're always doing that. It's my turn.” There's something in the way Ludger looks at him now that makes Julius want to question him, but rational thought is stolen from him as Ludger leans back and moves on him and suddenly nothing else matters but Ludger on top of him and himself in Ludger. Julius feels like a spectator as Ludger moves on him and it's all too soon before he becomes aware of the pressure between his legs and the way his hips are moving of their own accord to meet and match Ludger's own.

 

He is so absorbed in the sensations of it that Ludger's release comes as a surprise, and Julius feels the mattress and floor disappear beneath him as his brother's features crease up and a soft, hoarse cry of his name, _his name_ , leaves his throat and then Julius is coming too. He clutches at Ludger, leaving red crescent moons in his pale skin that he will kiss better later, and moans against his shoulder, leaving a mess of sweat and saliva on him as he shudders against the hard, muscular planes of Ludger's upper body. They fall together against the pillows and Julius forces himself to watch the way Ludger curls into him, his eyes closed and his expression soft and lax. His own eyelids are heavy and Julius forces a moment more of this sight before giving in and allowing darkness to take him.

 

 

 

* ~ * ~ *

 

Julius wakes to dusk, his room thinly lit by the street lights outside, and to the slow, sickening realisation that he is alone. The sheets are cold, and stiff in places, and the duvet is tangled so tightly around his legs that when he stands up pins and needles immediately spread from his toes up to his calves. He sits on the edge of the bed and rubs sensation back into his flesh. His bedroom door is closed but yellow light spills through from the gap between the bottom of the wood and the carpet and he can vaguely hear movement from beyond. Ludger is awake, then, but still here. He forces himself to his feet and grabs a clean pair of underwear and his pyjamas bottoms. He pulls a tshirt over his head and reaches for the door handle. The metal is cold and hard beneath his palm and he hesitates.

 

 _Would Ludger acknowledge what had happened?_ Julius hadn't dreamt it; there were bruises and other marks enough to prove that it had been no mere fantasy, no wet dream. But Ludger hadn't stayed and Julius didn't know what it meant.

 

He hates not knowing.

 

Taking a deep breath, Julius turns the handle and opens the door. Holding a hand up, he squints against the pain as his eyes adjust to the light and and he steps half-blind into the living room. His vision is poor without his glasses but he can see that Ludger is at the stove and the smell of cooking food, of cooking pasta and tomato sauce, hits him.

 

“You're awake.”

 

Ludger puts something down and goes over. He pauses by the sofa and Julius opens his mouth to say something, to apologise. He lets Ludger put his glasses on and leans down to embrace his little brother.

 

“I'm sorry.” He says, and he means it. Ludger shakes his head and Julius feels like crying more than ever when Ludger's arms curl around his neck.

 

“I'm not.” Ludger whispers, and kisses his cheek, his lips lingering on Julius's skin, “There is nothing to be sorry for.” He pulls away then and gives Julius a disapproving look and flicks him on the nose and that is enough to break him out of his reverie.

 

“You're gonna be sorry if you make me burn the pasta sauce, though.”

 

Julius smiles and drags Ludger into a headlock, digging his knuckles into his head and ruffling his hair.

 

“You mean _you'll_ be sorry,” He releases him and goes to sit at the table, watching as Ludger finishes off their food and carries it to the table along with a small bowl of grated cheese. As he reaches for the cheese, Ludger's hand brushes his own and then curls against his palm until their fingers interlock. Julius looks up and when Ludger smiles at him, trusting, loving, Julius feels himself return it and knows that this, whatever it may be, is all it needs to be.

Whatever it may be, it is right.


End file.
